waiter, waiter, there's a cliche in my soup

[serinde]

I had problems falling asleep last night, dog-tired as I was; and just as I was achieving something like the mental composition required at about 1am, suddenly a ruckus moved into my field of hearing. I rushed to the window to see what was the matter--

A guy was walking down the street carrying a ghetto blaster, blaring at top volume. And by "ghetto blaster", I do indeed mean an enormous square stereo set of a size which necessitated him cradling it in both arms, and that only with difficulty.

There may just be a general 1970s time warp at play somewhere around me.

Comments

[syringavulgaris.livejournal.com]

1. I don't know--something at the intersection of "urban" and "pop".
2. Well, my open window, for one.
3. I wish.